


The Wonders of Alphabetical Seating

by bekommissar_is_canon



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Becommissar AU, Becommissar Week, Becommissar Week 2016, F/F, Fluff, One-Shot, becommissar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6642358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekommissar_is_canon/pseuds/bekommissar_is_canon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca Mitchell isn’t having the best start to medical school. At least she gets to sit next to a German goddess who can explain everything to her. One-shot for Becommissar Week 2016, Day 1: Soulmate Tattoos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wonders of Alphabetical Seating

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bit of a weird take on a soulmate tattoo AU, but then I'm weird too. Happy Becommissar Week! *throws confetti*

It was freshman year all over again.

Beca shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying not to show how nervous she was. She was in her first month of medical school, and so far it had been a resounding flop. She was always lost, she didn’t understand a single word uttered in class, and she was losing sleep over the cadaver lab looming on the horizon.

It didn’t help that she had to get up at the crack of dawn for her first day of histology lab, either. She stifled a yawn and fished out her textbook. She wasn’t looking forward to spending two hours peering at a microscope, trying to distinguish this tissue from that. What’s more, they were supposed to make a sketch of every tissue sample that was allocated for the day, and Beca couldn’t draw a straight line if her life depended on it. The only saving grace was that they were seated alphabetically, so Beca Mitchell was right in the middle, safely tucked away from the professor’s immediate gaze. 

“Excuse me.”

She looked up from her book to see a tall, imposing woman frown and point at the vacant space next to her. “That’s my place.”

Beca closed her gaping mouth shut with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered, pulling in her seat to let her pass. She felt her legs brush against her back, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

She tried not to stare, but her eyes seemed to be magnetically drawn to the woman sitting down next to her. She watched her tuck her dirty blonde hair behind her ears with long, slim fingers. She drank in the sight of her profile as she adjusted her microscope, watching her lick her full, chapped lips and twitch her button nose. She knew she was gawking, but thankfully the flawless creature next to her was engrossed in a pile of immaculately written notes. Her gaze fell on the name written in red ink on her histology manual: _Luisa Meyer_.

Never before had Beca been so grateful for an alphabetical seating.

***

Luisa Meyer was wasting her talents in med school.

As Beca labored over her pathetic attempt of a muscle tissue sketch, Luisa was already finished and was busy comparing her drawing with the pictures in her textbook. Beca sneaked an incredulous glance at her impeccable work. Every single detail was meticulously sketched, the various layers had been colored in carefully. The lines were infuriatingly straight, the cells were perfect miniscule circles. If Beca didn’t know it was a histology sketch, she could have mistaken it for an art student’s abstract work.

Flawless. Just flawless.

“I beg your pardon?” said Luisa, looking up in surprise.

Beca felt her cheeks turn red in embarrassment. Had she said that out loud?

“I meant impressive,” stammered Beca. “Your sketch. Impressive. Very.”

Luisa raised her eyebrows. “I could have sworn you said ‘flawless’.”

“Flawless, impressive, take your pick,” shrugged Beca. “You’re all of them. I mean, your drawing is.”

“Just my drawing?” asked Luisa innocently.

“Well, your face is rather flawless as well,” said Beca thoughtfully. “You don’t have a single blemish. Me, I break out daily. Look, this pimple on my chin is a few hours old.”

The corner of Luisa’s mouth twitched. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She stuck out her right hand. “Luisa Meyer.”

“Your hand is so soft,” marveled Beca as she squeezed Luisa’s hand. “I mean, I’m Beca Mitchell. Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” grinned Luisa. “It’s cocoa butter.”

“Eh?”

“I moisturize with cocoa butter,” she explained. “It’s a great body moisturizer. Especially for the legs in cold weather.”

“You must need a lot of butter for your legs,” said Beca in wonderment, staring at Luisa’s long legs.

“Shut up already!” hissed an annoyed student.

***

The day Beca turned eighteen had been an unforgettable day in many ways. The obvious part was celebrating a milestone in her life, that magical day when one suddenly matured into a fully-fledged, responsible adult. More importantly, it was the day Beca came out to her family as pansexual and introduced her then-girlfriend to her parents.

It also was the day a dark, lumpy, oddly-shaped mole the size of a walnut appeared on her lower back overnight.

The dermatologist was stumped. In a matter of days, it had turned almost black and grown in length to vaguely resemble a caterpillar, or a snake. The mole didn’t show any signs of cancerous growth, but to have a mole of that size and thickness to grow out of nowhere was unheard-of. To be on the safe side, he decided to have it removed and analyzed. However, when the doctor administered the local anesthesia, it inexplicably failed to numb the skin. All the anesthesiologists in the hospital were puzzled as to why an otherwise healthy, fit eighteen-year-old did not respond to the anesthesia. Many hours and countless jabs later, the doctors conceded defeat and told Beca to come a few months later to have it checked.

“It’s not that bad,” said Alison, her girlfriend. “It kind of looks like a furry caterpillar shaped like an _L_.”

“I don’t mind it,” shrugged Beca, twisting to catch a glimpse of it in the mirror. “Nobody will see it, anyway. And I like caterpillars.”

Five years later, after a grueling day of histology and anatomy and other tongue-tying classes, she felt her mole flake as she scrubbed her back in the shower.

***

Med school wasn’t so bad.

In fact, it was downright brilliant with a German goddess as an unexpected friend and study partner.

“I give up,” moaned Beca one day in histology. The midterm exams were coming up alarmingly fast, and the two had taken up handing each other tissue samples to identify.

“It’s a liver!” exclaimed Luisa. “That’s one of the easiest ones! Shame on you, troll.”

“Oh.” Beca rubbed her eyes. “How do you recognize it again?”

Luisa flipped through her sketches. “The _Glisson Trias_ ,” she said, pointing at three circles in the middle of her drawing. “Only the liver has it. Remember?”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” She traced the carefully drawn sketch with her index finger. “You know, your sketches are better than the professor’s handouts.”

Luisa flashed her a smile, and Beca’s heart skipped a beat. “Aren’t you a kind troll.”

“I mean it,” she protested. “I really admire your work. You should have studied design or something.”

“I’m not _that_ good,” said Luisa dismissively, adjusting the light of her microscope. “I just had a lot of practice in undergrad.”

“In Germany?”

Luisa nodded. “I studied biology in Tübingen, and you do a lot of drawings of plants and animals and stuff. So I’m used to it.”

“I wish I could see those drawings.”

Luisa threw her a sideway glance. “Really?”

“I’m interested in anything about you,” she said bashfully.

“Likewise,” smiled Luisa, her turquoise eyes warm and sincere. “By the way, did you see the announcement for the first ‘Introduction to Clinical Studies’ workshop? It’s next week.”

“Yeah, I did,” said Beca, thankful for a change of topic. “We’re in the same group.”

“I noticed,” nodded Luisa. “Pity both our last names start with _M_. Looks like we’re stuck with each other in every class.”

“Pity,” agreed Beca.

***

The night before the workshop, Beca took an extra-long shower and scrubbed herself raw. She exfoliated, plucked, shaved and moisturized. After a ten-minute treasure hunt in her messy drawers, she managed to locate her only pair of matching underwear.

Of course, Beca’s sudden grooming regimen had absolutely nothing to do with the prospect of getting undressed in front of Luisa for a mock check-up.

***

 “You will practice in groups of two,” announced Charlotte, their tutor for the first clinical studies workshop. “Me and Kim will be walking around for any questions you may have.”

“Want to be partners?” grinned Luisa.

Beca shrugged nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t been obsessing over this moment for a week. “Fine by me.”

“Alright then.” Luisa briskly peeled off her black sweater and tugged off her shoes.

“Alright then,” repeated Beca, doing her best not to stare at a half-naked Luisa. “So.”

“So.” Luisa looked at Beca expectantly.

“Here we go.” Beca grabbed a statoscope and fumbled with the earpieces.

“It goes in the other way round,” said Luisa patiently. She reached forward and turned the statoscope around, brushing Beca’s ears with her fingers. “Otherwise you won’t hear as well.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” Beca gingerly lay the statoscope on Luisa’s chest. Sure enough, she could hear her heart beating steadily, her chest rising and falling with her breath. She shifted the statoscope to the left to listen to her pulmonic valve and paused.

“Can you … can I … er …” She gestured awkwardly at Luisa’s bra.

Luisa smirked and guided Beca’s hand to rest underneath her left breast. “Can you hear my mitral valve?”

“Oh yes,” breathed Beca, staring at the black lace of her bra. “I mean, yes, loud and clear.”

“Glad to hear it,” grinned Luisa. “Shall we move on?”

“Sure,” nodded Beca, trying to ignore Luisa’s knowing gaze. “I’ll move on to your abdomen.”

As Luisa dutifully lay down, Beca stared disbelievingly at her chiseled stomach.

“You have some tight abs,” she marveled. “I mean, your _Musculi recti abdomini_ are very well defined.”

“ _Danke_ , little troll,” glinted Luisa. “You’ve been studying anatomy. Now, are you going to continue sometime today, or do you just plan on staring at me?”

“Of course I am,” she said indignantly. “I’ll start with your liver. Take a deep breath.”

As Beca rested her hands on Luisa’s midsection and pressed down, Luisa burst into a fit of giggles.

“That tickles!” she gasped.

“Sorry,” laughed Beca. “So, the mighty Luisa _does_ has a weakness. Does this tickle as well?”

“Stop that!” giggled Luisa, slapping her hand away. “And your hands are so cold.”

“Is everything alright over there?” asked Kim sharply.

Luisa and Beca exchanged glances. “Oh yes, perfectly alright,” nodded Luisa.

“More than alright,” said Beca.

“Less talking and more practicing, then,” said Kim sternly.

“No problem,” said Beca cheerfully. “We’ll be done before you know it.”

“Just give us five minutes,” added Luisa. “I don’t take long.”

***

Unsurprisingly, Beca was nowhere near finished when it was time to switch.

“Pity we aren’t finished in time,” sighed Luisa, putting on her sweater. “Now we need to practice in our spare time to catch up.”

“That is a pity,” frowned Beca. “We probably should continue today, before we forget everything. For science.”

 “For science,” agreed Luisa. “How about tonight, eight o’clock at my place?”

Beca tapped her chin and furrowed her brow. “I think I can make it.”

“It might take longer than we think,” warned Luisa. “You can’t take shortcuts when it comes to science, you know.”

“I have a feeling it might take all night,” nodded Beca.

Luisa winked and bent over to tie her shoelaces, exposing her lower back.

“Hey, I have a mole on the same spot,” remarked Beca. “But mine’s more like a caterpillar.”

“Oh?” Luisa turned Beca around and raised her shirt. “It really is in the same spot.”

“I like yours better, it kind of looks like a snowman.”

“Get undressed, snowman,” grinned Luisa. “It’s weird, though, it appeared out of nowhere a few years ago.”

Beca wrinkled her brow. “Really? Mine grew in a day on my eighteenth birthday.”

Luisa paused, the statoscope midway to her ears. “Are you serious, or just pulling my leg?”

“I’m serious!” protested Beca. “Why, was it also on your birthday?”

“You two! Switch!” yelled Charlotte irritably.

***

Beca took a deep breath and rang the doorbell of Luisa’s tiny apartment. She, Beca Mitchell, was about to spend the evening – and possibly, she thought with a frisson of pleasure, the night – with the most attractive and alluring student on the planet.

Med school was aca-awesome.

“Beca!” A smiling Luisa opened the door and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek.  “Come in, make yourself at home. I hope you’re hungry, I cooked lasagna.”

“I’m starving,” she said, inhaling the wafting scent of melted cheese that had already filled the flat. “I brought some pastries for dessert.”

“Aren’t you a kind troll,” beamed Luisa. “We’re going to need lots of energy to get through the night.”

“Oh, will we?” asked Beca, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Of course we will,” smirked Luisa. “We have a lot of studying to do, you know.”

***

Beca sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, savoring the lingering taste of Luisa’s scrumptious meal in her mouth.

“Tired, little troll?” teased Luisa, throwing herself next to Beca on the couch.

“Just happy,” said Beca sleepily. “And full. Dinner was delicious.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” smiled Luisa. She draped her arm around Beca’s shoulders and pulled her close to herself. “Do you have room for dessert?”

Beca nestled under the crook of Luisa’s arm and buried her face in her chest. “Just for you,” she mumbled, listening to the steady beat of Luisa’s heart.

“As you wish,” laughed Luisa. She rested her lips on Beca’s head and stroked her hair.

“That’s nice,” sighed Beca. “Your hands are so strong.”

“You have no idea,” murmured Luisa, her lips traveling in her hair. “Want me to give you a backrub?”

“Oh, please,” purred Beca.

“Turn around, happy troll,” grinned Luisa. Beca closed her eyes and felt Luisa peel off her shirt.

“That feels so good,” moaned Beca.

“You’re just easy to please,” said Luisa amusedly, kneading her back. “Beca?”

“Mm?”

“Your mole really looks like an _L_.”

Beca raised her head. “I call it a caterpillar.”

“And mine looks like the number eight, or a _B_.”

“So?”

“Don’t you get it?” said Luisa impatiently. “Those are our initials!”

“What?” Beca sat up and stared at Luisa. “That’s just a coincidence.”

“Well, it’s a freaky coincidence,” said Luisa obstinately. “It’s almost like … a sign. Like we were meant to find each other.”

A smile crept on Beca’s face. “Are you saying that we’re soulmates or something?”

“I just know that these aren’t typical moles,” said Luisa, her cheeks growing red. “I’ve read every single article I could find on the net about moles, and nothing comes close to ours.”

“You do,” laughed Beca. “You think we’re meant to be together! You’re in love with me!”

“Don’t tickle me!” exclaimed Luisa, trying to shield herself from Beca. “Stop that!”

“Say that you think we’re soulmates, and I’ll stop,” giggled Beca.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re meant to be together!” panted Luisa.

Beca smiled triumphantly as she let Luisa catch her breath. “I knew you were a sappy romantic at heart.”

Luisa threw her a dirty look and smoothed back her hair. “Am not.”

“Are too!”

Luisa suddenly grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. “Am not,” she repeated quietly, her face hovering over Beca’s.

“Are too,” mumbled Beca, but her words were swallowed by Luisa’s firm kiss.

***

“This is a tough one,” smirked Luisa. “I don’t think you can identify it.”

“I bet I can,” said Beca obstinately, peering into the microscope.

“And?” asked Luisa innocently.

“I’m thinking!” Beca frowned and fiddled with the light. “This is … a muscle sample.”

“Which muscle?” probed Luisa, resting her chin in her hands.

“The … heart?” said Beca uncertainly.

Luisa nodded approvingly. “Very impressive, Maus. You’ve been studying.”

“You bet,” said Beca seriously, running a finger down Luisa’s thigh. “Studying with you at night has been a huge motivation. I can’t _wait_ to study nowadays.”

Luisa grabbed her hand and entwined her fingers around hers. “Your passion for medicine is admirable.”

“Thank you,” grinned Beca. “Okay, next sample.”

“I gave you my heart, little troll,” shrugged Luisa, looking straight into Beca’s eyes. “Anything else I have would pale in comparison.”

Beca beamed and felt her heart beat faster in response. “Likewise.”

Med school was heaven.


End file.
